


Hungry Eyed and Weather Stained

by ViaLethe



Category: Firefly
Genre: Explanations, F/M, Loyalty, Making Up, Minor Kaylee Frye/Simon Tam, Post-Canon, Returning Home, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 07:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21011786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViaLethe/pseuds/ViaLethe
Summary: Two years after River leftSerenity- and her Captain - in the middle of the night, she finds herself standing before the ship once more, cargo bay yawning out before her.Only, Mal's none too sure he wants her back this time.





	Hungry Eyed and Weather Stained

The port is oppressively warm and crowded, and River can feel the heat of the dirt rising even through her boots, because she is stopped in her tracks at the sight before her.

She hasn't seen _Serenity_ in two years, since she'd slipped away into a port much like this in the middle of the night, leaving only a note behind.

And now the cargo bay is stretched out yawning before her, dim, dusty and homelike.

She thinks, at first, that the crew is entirely absent, until she sees him moving in the shadows. The exact moment he notices her would be obvious even without her particular mental enhancement, he freezes so suddenly. For one cold moment she wishes she could blend back into the stream of the crowd, caught between hope and fear that he'll ignore her.

But he doesn't, walks down the ramp to stand before her, arms folded. “River. You're a sight I didn't think to see again.”

“Captain.” She hesitates, unable to formulate words to explain the last two years, to put into context the magnitude of the feelings that have driven her actions. She tips her head back, eyes avoiding the sight she's longed to see. “_Serenity's_ looking well. You've kept her safe.”

“Always keep what's mine safe.” His words are clipped, emotion that's been kept warm for too long coming to the fore. She knows he'll ask before he does, can only stand in miserable apprehension, waiting for an answer she doesn't have the words for to be demanded. “Why'd you leave? And why in the gorram 'verse didn't you _tell_ anybody you wanted off?”

“Mal...” she clenches a hand in the fabric of her skirt, words fighting each other in her mind, piling up and blocking the pathways to her mouth, leaving her mute and defenseless. “I had to,” she says finally, because it is the only thing she knows for certain, the truth she has clung to all this time.

“Had to?” he says, clenching his jaw. “Yeah, sure, that 'splains everything. Glad we had this little chat then.”

He turns back up the ramp, and she follows, boots clanging hollow on the metal, sending up echoes in her head. “Mal, wait-”

She's cut off when he turns suddenly, blocking her way, so close they're nearly touching. “What do you think you're doing?” he asks, eyes cold. “You're not part of my crew no more. You ain't welcome on my boat.”

Everything in her surges forward, but her feet remain planted, respect for both the man and the ship forcing stillness. “I can explain.”

“I'm not interested,” he says over his shoulder. “Had you on my boat more'n a year, risked life and limb to help you and your brother out time and again, trusted you when nobody else in the 'verse would have, and you just up and walk away without a word?” He shakes his head, starts up the stairs. “I gave you your chance to explain. Now get off my ship.”

His words are like a physical force, a wall constructed brick by brick in front of her, forcing her back until she feels the grit catch under her boots once more.

River has left the ship once before, driven by threats and fears, from within herself and without. Now the firefly sits in front of her like a bright beacon of redemption. She's been rebuffed, but she's weathered worse, has the stamina for a fight.

She draws a line in the dirt with her toe, just at the metal's edge, and sinks down into the dirt behind it.

***

She’s still sitting there an hour later, face tipped up to the sun, when Zoe returns to the ship, a heavy bag over her shoulder.

“River?” she says, and though Zoe never lets an emotion so vulnerable as surprise show in her voice, River can hear it behind her thoughts. “That really you?”

“Hello, Zoe,” she says, smiling, feeling like another missing piece has been fitted into place in her heart. “It's very nice to see you.”

Zoe looks to the silent interior of the ship, back to River. “What're you doing out here? Captain know you're here?” Her face softens a bit as she looks down. It doesn't quite reach the point of smiling, but, River knows, it wants to. “We've all missed you. Everyone'll be mighty glad to see you safe.”

“Captain knows I'm here,” River says, looking back to the ship. “He doesn't want me on board.”

“He actually said that?”

River nods. “He was very...” she hesitates, groping for the right word among the darting thoughts in her head, settles on, “hard.”

Zoe shifts her bag, wariness creeping into her stance. “He hasn't been himself for a while now. When you left-” She cuts herself off, seeming to come to a decision. “I'll go in and talk to him, see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” River says, watching Zoe walk away, stride smooth and determined. She notes that Zoe did not ask questions; as always, Zoe expects that information will be given to her when and if she needs to know, and River silently blesses her for that.

***

The sun shifts gradually overhead as she waits, casting her bit by bit into the shadow of _Serenity's_ bridge. But the steps she finally hears are far too light and quick to be Mal's, the squeal that accompanies them most definitely not his.

“River!” Kaylee doesn't even hesitate before tossing herself into the dirt at River's side, throwing her arms around her. “Oh my gosh, I was startin' to think we'd never see you again. What happened to you? We just woke up one mornin' to see you gone, and then we didn't know nothin' for six months, till Simon got us that message of his.”

Kaylee's sun has clouded over at the thought of Simon, and River feels the guilt of his departure weighted on top of her own. “I didn't mean for him to follow me,” she says, watching Kaylee's face. “But he heard me leave. Our rooms were so close, and he was always so worried about me...” she trails off. “I didn't mean to take him from you. He didn't leave on purpose.”

Kaylee forces a smile on her face; it's not quite honest, but it'll do. “Oh, don't you worry none 'bout that. He managed to make that clear enough in his message.” She pauses and looks around, as though River might be keeping Simon hidden in her pocket. “He wouldn't – I mean, he ain't with you now?”

River shakes her head, but smiles; at least it's possible she might repair _something_ today. “He's down at the clinic in town. Fixes people because he can't fix himself. Doesn't have the parts.”

“Oh.” Kaylee stands up hurriedly, brushing dirt from the seat of her overalls. “Maybe I'll just go on down and say hey, let him know we're here.”

She's nearly gone before River can speak. “Kaylee? Captain still won't let me in, will he?”

Kaylee hesitates, torn between a desire to be in front of Simon _now_ and the need to soften Mal's blows as much as she can for River. “Well, no...” She bends down to River again, puts a hand on her shoulder. “But he'll come round, honey, don't you worry. He's just...well, he took it awful hard when you vanished like that. Couldn't believe you leaving was your own choice, not 'til Simon told us otherwise.” She sighs. “He ain't never really been the same since, tell the truth. Drove Inara off with his moods and whatnot.”

River frowns; this is something she has not sensed. “Inara's gone?”

“Went back to the training house 'bout a year ago now. _Serenity's_ been awful lonesome lately.” She stands, grinning now, her sun back at full force. “Hell, if the Cap'n don't let you back on, I'll smuggle you on board just to have some company!”

River laughs, and waves Kaylee off on her way towards Simon and healing, trades one guilt for another as she thinks of Inara, torn between two worlds, forced into a choice because of ripples put into effect by River.

***

Hours pass; the shade slowly creeps away from her. Kaylee returns, Simon in tow. He too promises to talk to Mal, and though he isn't thrown from the ship in his turn, he has no better luck than Kaylee or Zoe, because River has asked him not to explain things to Mal. She is an adult now, she tells Simon, and needs to be responsible for her own choices, make her own explanations and reparations.

Simon and Kaylee ask her to come inside anyhow. Sitting upright under the sun's glare, she only folds her hands carefully in her lap and refuses. The light is hot, but she will not wither, will accept its burn and exposing rays as penance for two years gone.

Her cheekbones have begun to go pink by the time Mal reappears in the cargo bay, Jayne alongside him to haul in and strap down cargo.

“What the hell?” Jayne stops short on seeing her. “Mal, that crazy sittin' down there or am I seeing things?”

“Ain't seeing what isn't there. Not this time at least,” Mal responds, without so much as a glance at River.

“Why didn't anybody _tell_ me?” Jayne asks petulantly, coming down the ramp with what, for him, passes as a welcoming grin. “And why the hell you just sittin' down here in the sun? Your brain ain't gone all wooly-like again, has it?”

She laughs, because Jayne at least is still himself, still uncomplicated and upfront. “I suppose it might if I stay in the sun long enough. Excessive body temperature and dehydration can lead to hallucinations.”

Jayne's eyebrows draw together. “Uh...alright then. Why don't you get your ass in here, avoid them hallucinations?”

“Not welcome,” she says, indicating Mal with a lift of her chin.

“Capt'n?” Jayne calls, turning to Mal. “Why can't she come in? Ain't right to leave her sitting in the dirt like that.”

“Ain't right to run off like she did either. She don't want to sit there no more, she can go on home, wherever that may be,” Mal says. “Now get to work, I don't pay you to stand around chit-chatting.”

Jayne gives River a look that she would find sympathetic, coming from anyone else, but he leaves her and gets to hauling and stacking nonetheless.

***

She sits silent, unmoving except for her eyes, tracking Mal's movements back and forth across the cargo bay. Her skin is flushed, her bones ache from hours of solid dirt beneath them, and her head is beginning to swim, but she has been through much worse, doesn't betray her discomfort.

She knows the crowds at the docks have been watching her as they pass; the back of her head nearly has a hole stared through it by now, she is certain. But no one has bothered her until a group of teenage boys, seeking a target for their boredom, alight on her like vultures. Whispering and sniggering lead in turn to taunting, and when that stirs not a muscle in her, a rock thrown at her back.

In an instant Jayne is there, and the boys scatter, leaving two of their number to stumble away bleeding.

River knows this, although she does not turn, does not take her eyes from Mal. Though it's Jayne who's come out to her defense, it's Mal who's got his gun drawn.

***

The sun is beginning to set when Jayne comes down the ramp again, finished with his work, and sits at the end of the ramp, awkwardly offering her his water bottle.

“Thank you,” she says. “For before, too.”

Jayne shrugs. “Weren't nothin'. Those little _hun dan_ were askin' for it. Even I never threw rocks at no girl. 'Less she was askin' for it, of course.” He glances uneasily back at the cargo bay, but Mal is nowhere in sight. “Ain't right, Mal leavin' you to sit out here like this. Even if he is mad about all that time we wasted looking for you. Hell, I'm mad over it too, but you don't see me holdin' it against you.”

River frowns. “All what time? You looked for me?”

Jayne's look plainly says this is a question beyond foolish. “Didn't do nothin' else til that message from the doc came along. I said the whole time you'd just gone nutty again and run off, but Mal wouldn't have it. Had us searching half the damn 'verse for the two of you.”

River twists her hands together in her lap, willing her eyes to not spill themselves in front of Jayne. “I left a note. I didn't want you to worry.”

“Capt'n wouldn't believe it. Zoe and I said, but.” He shrugs. “Man believed too much in you. 'S why he's so ornery with you now. You shouldn'tve left that way,” he says, standing up. “Hell, I don't even like you, but we'd have been willin' to fight whatever was after you.”

“Some things in the 'verse it's safer not to fight,” she says, blinking into the sunset. “Some things you run from.”

“Yeah, well, way I see it you ended up runnin' from us too. And that sure as shit didn't do nobody any good.”

“Maybe,” River says, handing back the water. “I tried to do what was right.”

She knows that Jayne, in all his simplicity, understands this. “I'll go tell Mal what I think 'bout it. Not that he ever listens to me,” he says, turning to walk away, “but there's a first time for everything, right?”

River smiles sadly, beginning to believe that this will be the first time Mal fails her.

***

The wind picks up as the sun sinks, and rain begins to fall. _Serenity's_ bridge does its best to shelter River, but wind brings the water to her, soon has her soaked through. Simon makes an effort at persuading her to go home, but she only shakes her head, watches water bead and run on her skin.

She has taken to counting the drops the wind flings past her, eyes so focused on their task they miss Mal's approach, don't notice him until his hand is reaching down to her.

She takes it, ignoring the wet and dirt on her palms, too frightened not to hold on to whatever he offers.

Mal stares at her in the dim light, and she wonders what he sees now in her, a lost and disheveled albatross flown through a storm, coming to rest once more on his deck.

“You've changed,” she says finally, when it's clear that he's waiting on her to speak. “Gotten colder. No room left inside.”

“Looks to be plenty of room 'round here, the way people been fleeing my boat,” he says, purposely misunderstanding her.

She shakes her head. “Wasn't running from _Serenity_. Or from you.” She looks away, into the darkness. “But I had to leave. The voices came back. Voices that weren't mine, didn't belong on the ship. Talked through codes again, when I was off-ship. They told me...” she trails off, her voice lost in the tightness of her throat, muted by sudden panic as old threats rise up in her memory.

Her panic is snapped as Mal takes her hand again, grounding her. “What did they tell you that was so bad you had to run from us?”

She takes a deep breath, focuses herself against him. “That they knew where I was. That if I didn't give in-” She pauses, shakes her head, words tumbling together. “They find weaknesses. That's how they trained us – find the weak spot, take down the target. A matter of finding vulnerability. They said they'd kill Simon. And you.”

She wonders how many implications he can tease from those two words, if he truly wants to. But he gives nothing away, unless it's in the slight tightening of his fingers around hers. “That all? Hell, lot of people been out to kill me, never stopped us before.”

“Not these people,” she says, proud that the tremor in her voice is barely perceptible. “But that wasn't – didn't want to be a danger to you. Wasn't any more than a beacon for death.”

“You know that ain't true. And you know damn well none of us would've thought it, so's how about you explain why you couldn't share any of this at the time?”

She forces herself to look at him, to face what she'd ran from then. “Thought if I just left the note you'd be mad enough to not come looking. I knew you wouldn't let me go if I told, even if it was for the best. You'd have kept me on, but – can't trust a pilot who hears the cortex talking to her. I didn't want to be just a burden again. Couldn't face that.”

When he speaks, it is not what she's expected. “Did they find you?”

She smiles, just slightly, eyes looking into another reality. “Yes. Tried to hurt Simon.” She tilts her head, focusing on Mal once more, her voice flat. “They're gone now.”

He doesn't say a word. He has seen what happens when Simon is hurt in front of her.

“I'm sorry, Mal,” she says softly. “Was better to let you go on without me. Let you be free of me.”

“Thing is, darlin', I've always been one for makin' my own choices,” he says. “You wanna be free of me, that's one thing. But you don't get to decide what I want.” She nods miserably, kept on her feet only by the warmth of his hand around hers. “So, you come back on my ship, things are gonna be different between us. No more hiding, you got that?”

River's smile could burn across the 'verse, it's so bright. “Yes, Captain.” She looks up at him, knowing this isn't over, can't be erased; but still, it's a beginning. “Permission to come aboard?”

His hand against her back, guiding her up the ramp, is all the answer she needs.


End file.
